Before you read this, yeah this is about my cat who died three years ago this week. You've probably read several articles in Parade Magazine and Reader's Digest about people mourning their dead pets. This might be an exception to all the rules. This is not going to be a depressing wordy story with the "Oh whoais me" comments and sappy dialogue. My cat was not depressing at all. In actuality, he was a very positive cat and would surprise the heck out of people. He was part of the conversation. At times, even now, he is the conversation.
Dante was born October 28, 2004 in a trailer located in the boonies of North Carolina. Black from head to toe, he looked almost demonic. Even before he opened his eyes, he was casted out by his five littermates. He was the sore thumb of the group. The only one who really accepted him was his mother, Oreo. Oreo was a minute black and white cat who of course looked similar to Dante. Yet, Oreo unfortunately passed away 5 and half weeks after the kittens were born from an immunodeficiency virus. Dante was given away to a family nearly the same time. Meanwhile, I was interested in Courtney, who was Dante's sister. Courtney is the perfect little kitty, she has Seal Point features and a bobbed tail. She was the exotic beauty in the group of assorted cats. All the other kittens had attractive features, with the exception of the lowly black kitten.
A couple of months passed by as the kittens matured. It was down to three kittens. I set my sails towards aquiring Courtney. For some reason, the black kitten made his return to my friends' trailer, back to four. The black kitten, once named "Midnight", was displaced by his adoptees and unnamed. My friends gave me a packaged deal: Courtney will come with the black cat and their two brothers whom I called the "Dover Boys" (in which both "Dovers" would eventually become adopted by my neighbor who lived across the street). The kittens' real names were Ghost and Snowball, but they always were together like two prep buddies in high school.
Knowing I will be stuck with the black cat, I tried to think of a name for him. He just attempted to raid my friend's refigerator in which he liked to break into. My one friend and I looked down on the black kitten, by now a small cat. The black cat stared up at us with his yellow-green eyes piercing through the the black sillhouette. It was a look of guilt mixed in with hunger and deceit. The word "Dante" mysteriously was uttered from our mouths. Although virtually innocent, he had a sinister look about him. Looking at his greenish-yellowy eyes, he had the "feed me, dammit" look about him. He also had the "I am going to kill you and take over the world" look. He was a mysterious soul, almost oblivious-- such as a "Divine Comedy".
So by the spring of 2005, I had the princess kitty and the demon cat. I just was happy to be down to two cats. I was sweated out by my landlord, but his daughter just adopted "the Dover Boys" so I was just glad that I wasn't kicked out. The Dover Boys now renamed "Yum-Yum" and "Kokomo". The Dovers were like the tennis playing preps of the cat world. Both had the Siamese features of Courtney and were well formed and well defined. Dante was a scrawny black shadow of a cat and stuck out in contrast with the rest of the cats in the neighborhood.
Dante could fight though, he needed to. He mixed it up in the nearby fields around the renovated garage I lived in. One time he fought on the front porch, defending his sister and his master. There was this one cat, a beaten down grey and white tabby who always called him out. Dante's inexperience showed and he had his clock cleaned. The Dover Boys across the street also got whipped by the grey and white cat.Yet as time flew by, Dante grew a little stronger and became a flat out street cat despite living indoors. One time in January, 2006, he limped in my apartment looking ran down. I was looking for the grey and white cat who bothered him. I saw him run through the back yard also limping, it was the last I've seen the grey and white cat. Strangely, Courtney looked concerned, cleaning Dante and following him around. Dante looked beat and then I became concerned. I drove him to veterinarian fearing he broke his front leg. The good news was nothing was broken, however he had the same virus that took the life of his mother.
I was given antibiotics for Dante as well as a "doom and gloom" synopsis of what his future could've been. The vet said if the antibiotics didn't work, he would get the needle. There was something about Dante that would not die--it seemed he wanted to get better. And he did in a span of 24 hours. He then became an indoor cat due to his "snipping". He had this unbounded energy, he not only improved, he started this zest for life. I then sent Courtney to the vet to get tested, she was negative. My neighbor took the Dovers to their vet they were negative. Dante was positive, he was truly the outcast.
Taking in the doom and gloom outlook regarding Dante, I could have put him down right there at the vet. Yet, he rebounded and became a new entity. He was the only cat I knew that had a "screw 'em all" attitude. Let's face it, he was all in black, he was socially excluded, and his name was Dante--- he was a GOTH KITTY! Speaking for myself and my fellow geeks who went through unbounded shit in High School and was always get passed over in social circles, don't we ALL feel for Dante? I'd realized I had my share of the Courtneys, the Dover Boys and the grey and white bully who lived down the street who always pick fights. I guess we are all Dante!
Every day passed was like a victory for Dante. Then his personality set in. He was relentless in his eating. One time I had a 12" sub that I left out for work. Mistakenly, I left the sub at my apartment. By the time I came back home, the entire sub was consumed. The only thing remained was the paper the sub was wrapped in and a few shreds of lettuce. Courtney must have helped but Dante, I swear, jumped up on the counter rubbed his face into mine in which I smelled his salami breath!
Months pass by, then it was a couple of years. I recently moved to a new apartment in "the big city" with a population of 45,000. I left the small town and left the Dover Boys across the street behind. Last Christmas, my mother came from Florida to visit me. Courtney mainly hid from everyone, so she was no help. Dante not only greeted Mom at my door, but she kept my Mom's spot on the couch nice and warm. Everytime my Mom got up to get coffee, Dante would sit in her place until she came back. Dante also perched regularly at the front window doing some bird watching. He also meowed when I left to go to my friend's apartment or do laundry. He would sit at the window meowing every chance he saw me getting out of my car or walking to/from my apartment. He wanted ALL the fun of outside, and wanted to go outside real bad! Once in a while, he escaped only to roll on the nearby sidewalk or in the garden nearby. The cat loves to roll in dirt. Well, he lost his two best friends (not the Dover Boys, but his buds between his legs) so like there is something else to do, right? He also invented a new sport, stalking and hunting my printer everytime a paper came out. Before his passing, I had some lollipops (or suckers) sitting near the computer desk. Dante noticed this and knocked them over so Courtney can play with them. Everytime I would put the lollipops on a shelf, he would knock them down. And don't ask me what he would do if he seen a plastic bag on the floor!
Then reality set in. During mid-November 2008, I noticed Dante getting short winded and lethargic. This was a little peculiar for Dante, since he was always energtic and full of life. That morning, I was awaken by Dante's heavy breathing like he was having an asthma attack. I knew it was part of the doom and gloom story the vet gave me back in Janurary of 2006. Later the same morning, I took him to the vet only to be greeted by could be's, should be's, and a possible $200 dollar bill for an X-Ray and exam. I was given antibiotics, a duiretic (for fluid in the lungs), a "good luck", and a bill for $59. I knew his time has come, and then it hit me. I was in a Dollar General looking for air fresheners and garbage bags when a wave of tears came towards me. I ducked in the houseware isle and started sobbing in front of the $7.50 can openers. I'm an imploder and it would sink in but fade away quickly. A short, quiet sob later (along with a bursted blood vessel in my eye), I decided to throw in the towel. The weekend slipped by and Dante was still sick, I ran out of options. I called the nearby animal control shelter to make it quick and painless. I discovered that the local animal control, did not "do" euthanasia.Yet, they gave me a number to a nerby vet that was far more reasonable and closer by.The new vet was much more fair than my usual vet. Yes, there was the "few dollars more" mantra ,and there were stronger antibiotics Dante could've used. The fact was that Dante's Feline Leukemia came to a head. He had pneumonia due to complications from the FeLV. It was time.
The gambling days were over-- Dante already achived his goal, outliving the expectaions of sceptics, even outliving his own goal. In the four years he lived, he put in a good ten. I remember the new vet looking at me and said "I bet he lived a good life". So true, Dante beat the odds. Dante was an overachiever and was damn proud of it! I held his front paw and held it like a hand. I then said "I love you, man!" like a surfer dude would say to another. I chose not to remain to be there and therefore didn't see him go, I might break more blood vessels in my eyes. For some reason, I can hear Bruce Springsteen's "Thunder Road" playing in my head. It was like Dante was giving me a subliminal message that everything was going to be all right complete with a Clarence Clemmons sax solo.
Now I had people come up to me, and asked me why didn't I have the vet put him down back in '06. He was alive and he was given a chance to live. Dante kicked ass when he was alive. Dante had soul, Dante was soul!
For Dante 10/28/04- 11/17/08, you will always be my "nunu".
Dante was born October 28, 2004 in a trailer located in the boonies of North Carolina. Black from head to toe, he looked almost demonic. Even before he opened his eyes, he was casted out by his five littermates. He was the sore thumb of the group. The only one who really accepted him was his mother, Oreo. Oreo was a minute black and white cat who of course looked similar to Dante. Yet, Oreo unfortunately passed away 5 and half weeks after the kittens were born from an immunodeficiency virus. Dante was given away to a family nearly the same time. Meanwhile, I was interested in Courtney, who was Dante's sister. Courtney is the perfect little kitty, she has Seal Point features and a bobbed tail. She was the exotic beauty in the group of assorted cats. All the other kittens had attractive features, with the exception of the lowly black kitten.
A couple of months passed by as the kittens matured. It was down to three kittens. I set my sails towards aquiring Courtney. For some reason, the black kitten made his return to my friends' trailer, back to four. The black kitten, once named "Midnight", was displaced by his adoptees and unnamed. My friends gave me a packaged deal: Courtney will come with the black cat and their two brothers whom I called the "Dover Boys" (in which both "Dovers" would eventually become adopted by my neighbor who lived across the street). The kittens' real names were Ghost and Snowball, but they always were together like two prep buddies in high school.
Knowing I will be stuck with the black cat, I tried to think of a name for him. He just attempted to raid my friend's refigerator in which he liked to break into. My one friend and I looked down on the black kitten, by now a small cat. The black cat stared up at us with his yellow-green eyes piercing through the the black sillhouette. It was a look of guilt mixed in with hunger and deceit. The word "Dante" mysteriously was uttered from our mouths. Although virtually innocent, he had a sinister look about him. Looking at his greenish-yellowy eyes, he had the "feed me, dammit" look about him. He also had the "I am going to kill you and take over the world" look. He was a mysterious soul, almost oblivious-- such as a "Divine Comedy".
So by the spring of 2005, I had the princess kitty and the demon cat. I just was happy to be down to two cats. I was sweated out by my landlord, but his daughter just adopted "the Dover Boys" so I was just glad that I wasn't kicked out. The Dover Boys now renamed "Yum-Yum" and "Kokomo". The Dovers were like the tennis playing preps of the cat world. Both had the Siamese features of Courtney and were well formed and well defined. Dante was a scrawny black shadow of a cat and stuck out in contrast with the rest of the cats in the neighborhood.
Dante could fight though, he needed to. He mixed it up in the nearby fields around the renovated garage I lived in. One time he fought on the front porch, defending his sister and his master. There was this one cat, a beaten down grey and white tabby who always called him out. Dante's inexperience showed and he had his clock cleaned. The Dover Boys across the street also got whipped by the grey and white cat.Yet as time flew by, Dante grew a little stronger and became a flat out street cat despite living indoors. One time in January, 2006, he limped in my apartment looking ran down. I was looking for the grey and white cat who bothered him. I saw him run through the back yard also limping, it was the last I've seen the grey and white cat. Strangely, Courtney looked concerned, cleaning Dante and following him around. Dante looked beat and then I became concerned. I drove him to veterinarian fearing he broke his front leg. The good news was nothing was broken, however he had the same virus that took the life of his mother.
I was given antibiotics for Dante as well as a "doom and gloom" synopsis of what his future could've been. The vet said if the antibiotics didn't work, he would get the needle. There was something about Dante that would not die--it seemed he wanted to get better. And he did in a span of 24 hours. He then became an indoor cat due to his "snipping". He had this unbounded energy, he not only improved, he started this zest for life. I then sent Courtney to the vet to get tested, she was negative. My neighbor took the Dovers to their vet they were negative. Dante was positive, he was truly the outcast.
Taking in the doom and gloom outlook regarding Dante, I could have put him down right there at the vet. Yet, he rebounded and became a new entity. He was the only cat I knew that had a "screw 'em all" attitude. Let's face it, he was all in black, he was socially excluded, and his name was Dante--- he was a GOTH KITTY! Speaking for myself and my fellow geeks who went through unbounded shit in High School and was always get passed over in social circles, don't we ALL feel for Dante? I'd realized I had my share of the Courtneys, the Dover Boys and the grey and white bully who lived down the street who always pick fights. I guess we are all Dante!
Every day passed was like a victory for Dante. Then his personality set in. He was relentless in his eating. One time I had a 12" sub that I left out for work. Mistakenly, I left the sub at my apartment. By the time I came back home, the entire sub was consumed. The only thing remained was the paper the sub was wrapped in and a few shreds of lettuce. Courtney must have helped but Dante, I swear, jumped up on the counter rubbed his face into mine in which I smelled his salami breath!
Months pass by, then it was a couple of years. I recently moved to a new apartment in "the big city" with a population of 45,000. I left the small town and left the Dover Boys across the street behind. Last Christmas, my mother came from Florida to visit me. Courtney mainly hid from everyone, so she was no help. Dante not only greeted Mom at my door, but she kept my Mom's spot on the couch nice and warm. Everytime my Mom got up to get coffee, Dante would sit in her place until she came back. Dante also perched regularly at the front window doing some bird watching. He also meowed when I left to go to my friend's apartment or do laundry. He would sit at the window meowing every chance he saw me getting out of my car or walking to/from my apartment. He wanted ALL the fun of outside, and wanted to go outside real bad! Once in a while, he escaped only to roll on the nearby sidewalk or in the garden nearby. The cat loves to roll in dirt. Well, he lost his two best friends (not the Dover Boys, but his buds between his legs) so like there is something else to do, right? He also invented a new sport, stalking and hunting my printer everytime a paper came out. Before his passing, I had some lollipops (or suckers) sitting near the computer desk. Dante noticed this and knocked them over so Courtney can play with them. Everytime I would put the lollipops on a shelf, he would knock them down. And don't ask me what he would do if he seen a plastic bag on the floor!
Then reality set in. During mid-November 2008, I noticed Dante getting short winded and lethargic. This was a little peculiar for Dante, since he was always energtic and full of life. That morning, I was awaken by Dante's heavy breathing like he was having an asthma attack. I knew it was part of the doom and gloom story the vet gave me back in Janurary of 2006. Later the same morning, I took him to the vet only to be greeted by could be's, should be's, and a possible $200 dollar bill for an X-Ray and exam. I was given antibiotics, a duiretic (for fluid in the lungs), a "good luck", and a bill for $59. I knew his time has come, and then it hit me. I was in a Dollar General looking for air fresheners and garbage bags when a wave of tears came towards me. I ducked in the houseware isle and started sobbing in front of the $7.50 can openers. I'm an imploder and it would sink in but fade away quickly. A short, quiet sob later (along with a bursted blood vessel in my eye), I decided to throw in the towel. The weekend slipped by and Dante was still sick, I ran out of options. I called the nearby animal control shelter to make it quick and painless. I discovered that the local animal control, did not "do" euthanasia.Yet, they gave me a number to a nerby vet that was far more reasonable and closer by.The new vet was much more fair than my usual vet. Yes, there was the "few dollars more" mantra ,and there were stronger antibiotics Dante could've used. The fact was that Dante's Feline Leukemia came to a head. He had pneumonia due to complications from the FeLV. It was time.
The gambling days were over-- Dante already achived his goal, outliving the expectaions of sceptics, even outliving his own goal. In the four years he lived, he put in a good ten. I remember the new vet looking at me and said "I bet he lived a good life". So true, Dante beat the odds. Dante was an overachiever and was damn proud of it! I held his front paw and held it like a hand. I then said "I love you, man!" like a surfer dude would say to another. I chose not to remain to be there and therefore didn't see him go, I might break more blood vessels in my eyes. For some reason, I can hear Bruce Springsteen's "Thunder Road" playing in my head. It was like Dante was giving me a subliminal message that everything was going to be all right complete with a Clarence Clemmons sax solo.
Now I had people come up to me, and asked me why didn't I have the vet put him down back in '06. He was alive and he was given a chance to live. Dante kicked ass when he was alive. Dante had soul, Dante was soul!
For Dante 10/28/04- 11/17/08, you will always be my "nunu".
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